The Difference

Thu, 10/15/2015 - 09:42 -- Melynne

My name is not Becky, Amanda, or Brittney. It is not Sarah, Ciara or Sandy.

My name is M-E-L-Y-N-N-E, and that spells Melynne.

My skin is tan and my hair is dark brown and curly.

My eyes aren't blue either.

They are a deep muddy brown that look red in the right light.


That's where all the differences end with me and Becky or Amanda or Brittney or Sandy.


But that's just on the surface you see, because there are several underlying differences between me and Amanda.

Because while Amanda and Derek only ever need to ask from this great country and they shall receive

I, along with all the Aisias and Quans and the Carmens and Juans, have to work my behind off just to get somebody-anybody- to have a little faith.

To believe just a little bit.

And that right there is the difference.


Because Brian? He’s just sick.

Pero ese Pablo?

He was just a cold blooded murderer.


Tyler's just troubled.

But De'Quan?

 He was a gangbanger who probably deserved it.


That's the difference between Dylan and Dante and that's the same difference between Mindy and Melynne.


Because didn't you know? The value of someone's life decreases as their pigmentation grows darker and ambitions are worth less and less the further down the boarder you go.


And it's not like we don't try to change their minds.

It's not like we don't tell them that we are not some evil incognito or disguise.


That it’s the news that distorts us until we’re some gnarled, twisted monsters with no regard for other life.


But most don't listen. And we have to watch as the ones who live with hate in their hearts pile on lie upon lie about who we are and where we come from.


And there are those of us who prove them right.

Who allow the hate to prevail and let it consume them until they rot.

And then there are those of us who try.

But you see when we try to build ourselves up, life comes around and tears up right back down.


But you know what? I for one refuse to stay down.

 No matter how many times life tears me down; I will keep getting back up.


I refuse to believe that simply because my name isn't Becky or Brittney that I don't have the right to strive for greatness.

I refuse to play into their misconceptions and stereotypes because I am more than my environment.

I refuse to believe that this world will only ever be about Amanda or Becky or Susie or Sandy.


Because my name is M-E-L-Y-N-N-E and I know that I am destined for greatness.

This poem is about: 
Our world
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